Peace does not mean. . .

"Peace. It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work.  It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart."  (unknown author)

This quote is from a magnet on my grandma's fridge.  Now it is on my garage door.  It is a noble and perhaps lofty goal. . .

Pastor Kris' sermon last week reiterated this idea from a spiritual perspective:  can we feel blessed and joyful even in the midst of all the bad stuff that goes on in our lives and in the world?  I think more often than not I fail in this endeavor.  Particularly these last two years.

Before that, I felt like I was blessed.  The sermon at our wedding was titled "Blessed to Be a Blessing."  I felt pretty peaceful about life.  I was blessed. I'm no stranger to theology, I was raised Missouri Synod Lutheran and suffered through three years of confirmation every Saturday morning for three hours. . . I know that God does not promise us that nothing bad will ever happen to us, only that he will be there with us in the midst of our trials.  We have the ultimate salvation in the end.

Knowing this and believing it are two different things.  I think deep down inside, I still pretty much thought that if I behaved, nothing bad would ever happen to me or my family. Then my Dad got a terminal cancer diagnosis and died five and a half months later.  I really got blindsided.  Not only had I lost my Dad, but I lost a God who would never let anything bad happen to me.

I wish I had risen above.  I wish I was one of those people who said "all things work together for good. . . "or these are tough times but we still have our faith. God is with us."  Or something noble like that.  Instead I was really angry.  If God is all powerful and He didn't heal my Dad, why should I want a relationship like that.  At the time I knew that God really was with us every minute, in every action and every word spoken and gracious act of love but in that darkness of anger I still felt betrayed.

When my friend Ginny lost her mother too soon, she told me was so devastated she couldn't even pray.  I told her I would pray for her.   My husband said those same words to me when I felt too angry to pray.

There is a reason they say in obituaries "survived by. . . "  We do survive.  Anger subsides.  Eventually we can be blessed and joyful even in our losses.  People can find peace in the midst of chronic pain, family struggles and life's burdens.  Sometime it takes a little time.  Sometimes it takes a lot of time. Sometimes it takes the faith of someone else we love.  As the darkness fades a little with that time, and with that love, we can once again start to see the light.

I still don't have a God that won't let anything bad happen to me.  I guess nobody does.  But with practice, time, and love, we can be whole in the midst of catastrophe. We can be well while we are ill.  We can be still in the chaos of life.  We are held. We are still blessed.